Sweetest in the Gale
by Kathy3
Summary: AU - continuing from my first fanfic, Rediscovered. The demon is on his way to the Hellmouth and Willow has to reveal some truths
1. The Calm

**Sweetest in the Gale**

This is the sequel to my fanfic 'Rediscovered'.

It is in an AU set after season six, so there aren't any spoilers.  It's just that I didn't think my ending to Rediscovered was true to the way I think the characters are going.

I got the title from a poem by Emily Dickinson that I was considering as a reading at my wedding.  I always loved the simple expressions used in it and the characterization of a love born of hope.

Hope is the Thing With Feathers

Hope is the thing with feathers  
That perches in the soul,  
And sings the tune without the words,  
And never stops at all,  
  
And sweetest in the gale is heard;  
And sore must be the storm  
That could abash the little bird  
That kept so many warm.  
  
I've heard it in the chilliest land,  
And on the strangest sea;  
Yet, never, in extremity  
It asked a crumb of me. 

Disclaimer: The characters are not mine; they belong to Joss Whedon and the gang at Mutant Enemy.  I wish I had some involvement in the series, but that dream will never come true.

Feedback: Yes please.  But try and be nice.

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**The Calm**

"Well, you borrow my stuff all the time!" Dawn folded her arms.

"Not when I go out on patrol," Buffy waved her shirt in her sister's face, "Look at it; it's ruined!"

Dawn's mouth set in a stubborn line, "It's not as if you can't get another one.  You get that discount at work."

"Just because I can get cheap clothes, doesn't mean you can go destroying the few things I do own.  You're paying for a new one."

"That's not fair!"

The front door opened, "Honey, I'm home." Spike took in the scene and cringed, "What now?" He closed the door behind him and shrugged off his duster, tossing it over the back of a chair.  Buffy and Dawn started talking at once.

"_She_ wore _my_ shirt last night…"

"_She_ borrows my stuff all the time and she _never_ asks…"

"…to go _patrolling_ with you…"

"…but _she _doesn't like it when I take _her_ clothes…"

"…now it's _ruined_…"

"…it's just a bit of _mud_…"

Spike sighed; this sort of thing was happening more often recently.  Much as he loved his girls, he was beginning to think he should have taken Xander up on his offer of the couch at his place.  The thought of another month breaking up sisterly fights and having to formulate a battle plan just to use the bathroom was not a pleasant one.  It wouldn't be too bad if they were living at Buffy's old place, which had some room to move, but it still hadn't been rebuilt after they'd burnt it down.  The place they were renting only had two bedrooms, a tiny kitchen and the bathroom was just not big enough for the combined hair products of three women.  About a month ago, Willow had refused to continue sharing a room with Dawn and had turned one end of the anything but spacious lounge into her bedroom.  It was driving them all crazy.  Spike smirked; they had made it through the end of the world so many times they'd lost count, but they couldn't live under the same roof without resorting to almost murder.

"Spike!"

Buffy and Dawn were both staring at him.  Suppressing a smile, he pretended he'd heard every word. "Dawn, you go into work with your sister tomorrow and buy her a really nice shirt." He found it ironic that he had become the peacemaker in the household, "Sorry, bit," he shrugged.

Dawn glared at him.

"And you're gonna wash this one.  By hand." Buffy held the sorry-looking piece of clothing out to her sister.

"Why?  You said it was ruined."

"Because I'm your legal guardian and I say so.  _And_ I can still take you."

Dawn snatched the shirt from her, "Fine." She stormed out into the kitchen and started banging about.  Spike and Buffy sank down onto the couch together.

"Kids; who'd have 'em?" Spike slipped an arm around Buffy and pulled her closer. "You know why this is happening, don't you?"

"'Cause she's a brat?  'Cause we have to live in this hen coop?"

Spike laughed, "No.  Well, yeah; that's part of it.  For Dawn.  You're just frustrated 'cause you've had nothing to kill for a while."

"It _has_ been a bit quiet lately," Buffy shrugged, "It'll pick up in a few days."

"You've been saying that for the last month."

Buffy sat up. "It's been a month?" Spike nodded. "Wow; I've been so tied up with the new job and getting the house re-built, I didn't even realize."

"This is Sunnydale, love.  Have you noticed how it's always quiet just before something big goes down?"

"Damn.  We haven't even cleaned up after the _last_ Apocalypse." Buffy pouted.

Spike gazed at her face, suddenly overcome with the beauty of her.  There was something about the shape of her lips when she was sulking that just went straight to his heart.  _And other parts, _he thought to himself, smirking.

"What?" Buffy was watching him, the trace of a smile in her eyes; she'd seen what he was thinking.

He leaned forward, slipping his hand under her shirt, "Nothing." 

Willow cleared her throat.  She had taken cover in Dawn's room when the argument had started and was now standing just inside the room, an apologetic smile on her face.  Spike removed his hand and slumped back onto the couch, raising his eyes to heaven.

"Sorry, guys.  Um, I was just thinking we could have a quiet night.  Y'know; videos, pizza, no big nasties to kill." Willow shuffled her feet, "I could take Dawnie with me to get the movies?"

Buffy grinned, "Good idea, Will.  She's just finishing up washing my shirt."

"Just don't let the niblet choose the films, OK?" Spike arranged his features into his best threatening expression, "'Cause if you come back with some bloody awful romantic crap and no action, I'm gonna hurt you both."

Dawn came in from the kitchen. "It's drying over the sink."

"Dawn, wait." Buffy went to her sister and planted a quick kiss on her cheek, "I'm sorry I yelled at you."

Dawn smiled, "I'm sorry I ruined your shirt."

"Oh, great; happy families again," Spike groaned. "_Please _stop with the Waltons and go get me some blood and violence to watch."

Dawn's face lit up, "Yay; we're having a video night?  No patrolling?"

Willow took her hand and led her to the front door, "I have strict instructions not to let you pick the movies.  Spike wants action."

"Looks like he's gonna get some," Dawn grinned at Buffy and ducked out of the door, slamming it behind her.  Buffy was on her feet and after her sister in a second.  Spike caught her around the waist as she was halfway to the door and spun her around to face him, "No hurting your sis, Buffy."

She pouted again, her eyes sparkling at him, "I'm out of practice; I used to be quicker than you.  I need to get training again."

"I can give you a good workout if you like."

Buffy smirked at him, stretching her arms around his neck and planting a lingering kiss on his lips. "OK."

"You think they've had enough time alone yet?" Dawn and Willow were strolling back towards the apartment, taking the long way home, so that they could pick up Xander on the way.

Willow smiled and glanced at her watch, "Maybe."

"I used to think it was cute.  The way they kinda grabbed each other as soon as I turned my back.  I didn't know it would last _this_ long." Dawn pulled a disgusted face.

"You didn't think they'd last?"

Dawn shook her head, "No; I didn't mean _them_.  I mean I didn't think the 'getting each other naked' stage would last this long."

Willow looked sideways at her, her eyes wide.

Dawn started giggling. "What, you think I can't hear what goes on in that bedroom?  I might be young, but I'm not deaf.  And I _know_ you hear it too." She lowered her voice an octave, "Oh Buffy, oh God, Buffy!" Dawn closed her eyes, imitating her sister, "Spike!  Yes Spike, yes!"

"Dawn!" Willow stopped in mid-stride and stared, a blush rising on her cheeks.

The younger girl was laughing hard now, "Come on," she gasped between her giggles, "Let's go and see if we can catch them on the couch." She started on their way again, Willow trailing behind her, shaking her head.

Spike looked down at Buffy, tracing the line of her jaw with his finger.  She smiled and turned her head to kiss his shoulder, shifting closer to him and drawing his arms around her again.  Spike settled himself next to her, feeling the warmth of her, smelling the scent of her.  Buffy shifted against him, started to kiss his chest, occasionally grazing the skin with her teeth.

"What, again?" he smiled.

She moved up and bit his shoulder gently, "You promised me a workout; that was just the first round."

Spike pushed her onto her back and leaned down, pressing his lips hard against hers.  For a moment, they just lay together, exploring each other's mouths, feeling their bodies pressed together in the warm evening light.

In the silence, the almost imperceptible rush of noise at the foot of the bed made them both jump, Buffy automatically reaching for the clothes that had been thrown to the side and pushing Spike off her.

"Buffy, you've got to… what the…?"

"Anya!" Spike scrambled to pull the sheets over both of them, "Get out!"

Anya put her head on one side, "OK; no need to shout.  I _have_ seen it before, y'know." She turned to Buffy, who had managed to regain some dignity and had a shirt wrapped tightly around her.

"Next time, could you give me a call first?  You can't just teleport _into my bedroom_ like this."

"Buffy, can you stop talking now?" Anya pursed her lips.

Spike finally managed to get a sheet over him, "Anya, what do you…"

"Spike, shut up." She stood up, "Buffy; we've got trouble."

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I'm just setting things up – stay with me people; it'll get going soon.


	2. The Storm

Disclaimer: If I click my heels together three times and repeat 'There's no place like Sunnydale, there's no place like Sunnydale' I'd probably have as much chance of getting there as coming up with any characters as brilliant as these.  In other words – none of this belongs to me.  Joss and ME own it all, damn them!

Hope you like it so far.

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**The Storm**

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"He calls himself Damon.  Thinks that's clever, like he has an education." Anya was pacing the small area in front of the TV.

Buffy shifted on the couch and reached for her soda. "Who does?"

"The H'nartach demon that's coming to Sunnydale."

"Hold on, love.  The _what_ demon and why's he coming here?" Spike glanced at Buffy, his eyes twinkling with amusement.  Buffy was still squirming from being caught quite literally with her pants down.

"_H'nartach_.  OK; sure, I'll start from the beginning," Anya sat down on the edge of the armchair, nervously pulling at the sleeves of her shirt, "I was in Europe, touring some of the old haunts.  I heard some rumours about something coming.  So, I called some of my old demon friends.  They weren't too pleased to hear from me, let me tell you.  I mean, I left Europe for good reason; there was sort of a thing in Germany once.  A kid with problems with his mother, she was over-bearing - usual teenage revenge deal.  Not usually my thing, but I was covering Hallie's vacation and it seemed like her area; punishing the parents.  So I went with it.  Sort of started another war; some people got a bit pissed about it.  That kind of thing."

"Anya!"

She shrugged apologetically, "So anyway, I heard that there was a new demon looking for followers and he says he's going to take over the world.  I found him in Spain and pretended I was interested.  My God, Damon can talk; on and on, me, me, me, take over the world, demons are the real power in this dimension, blah, blah, blah," She cleared her throat, "So I figured, this Damon has a plan and Buffy's going to want to know about it, seeing as he thinks he has to start at the Hellmouth.  I followed him around a few more countries, listened to his interminable speeches, got him to trust me and now; here I am."

Buffy stood up, "You're telling me you appear in my bedroom while we're… when we… Anyway, you burst in uninvited to tell me about a demon with ideas above his station?  Who might possibly be heading here?"

"No; while you were having hot vampire sex, I was following a psycho demon around Europe and I came back here to tell you that this guy is dangerous.  Damon wants to take over the world – he's going to enslave all mankind.  Not an Apocalypse; total slavery, demons running the show.   And no real room for vengeance – that's kind of a human deal.  He doesn't need an amulet or a special staff or a sphere or a planetary alignment thing; he just needs followers and _belief_.  And he has that.  He's coming here with a small army and he won't stop trying until he's dead." Anya tossed her hair back over her shoulder, "So how've you been?"

Buffy sighed. "When's he coming to Sunnydale?"

"I don't know.  I'm here to organize things for him.  I've got a contact that I'm meeting.  I can tell you more in the morning."

Spike met Buffy's gaze.  She nodded and turned to the telephone, hitting the speed dial.  There was a moment's silence as she waited for Giles to answer.

"So, you two were getting all sweaty together?"

Spike glared at Anya, "Yeah.  Lotta things have changed since you left.  I got my soul back, there was another almost Apocalypse, we burnt Buffy's place to the ground, Red's talking to Tara in her dreams, Xander's rebuilding the house, and I have a job at the Magic Box."

"Huh.  Well, that was succinct."  She fidgeted a little, "You got your soul back?"

"Long story, love.  And just for the record, it's not hot _vampire_ sex, cos I'm human now."

Anya's eyes widened.  She opened her mouth to say something and closed it again as Buffy put the receiver down.

"Giles says he'll look into it.  Scoobie meeting at the Magic Box tomorrow morning."

Anya stood up and drained her soda. "Well, as interesting as recent events in your lives are to me, I have a job to do.  I'll be back in the morning." She disappeared with a brief flare of light.

Spike glanced at Buffy again.  "Told you it was too quiet."

Xander slipped an arm around Willow as she sat down on the arm of the chair. "Hantartic demon?"

"H'nartach.  We don't know when he's coming, so we wait." Buffy put the bowl of popcorn on the floor in the middle of the room. "We don't know when he's coming, we don't know what he wants, we don't know how he's gonna do it.  But otherwise, we're good."

"This looks like a job for research-Willow." Xander smiled at his friend.

She stood up and went to her 'bedroom' at the other end of the lounge, "I'll hook up the laptop."

"Looks like the video night is out, then?" Dawn grabbed a handful of popcorn.

Buffy shrugged, "Sorry, Dawnie."

"Is it OK if I go do my homework?"

Spike grinned, "Yeah; knock yourself out."

Dawn turned away with a smile and headed into her bedroom.

Xander got to his feet. "I think I'll head off too.  Giles might need some help with the books and you know how much I love the research." He slipped his jacket on and made for the door. "'Night."

The door closed and Spike turned to Buffy, a wry smile on his lips.  She returned it and pushed herself to her feet, holding out a hand to him.  He took it. "Never ends, does it?"

"Not as far as I know." Buffy handed him a large book. "_History of the Hellmouth_.  If you find anything useful, there may be reward in it for you."

"Promises, promises," Spike grinned.

She was back in their old room standing by the window, the curtains filtering the early morning sunshine.  She was dreaming again.

"Willow."

Without turning, Willow smiled to herself; she knew who had spoken. "Hi, baby."  Tara's arm slipped around her waist, her cheek resting on Willow's shoulder, lips gently brushing her skin.

"I've got things to tell you."

"I thought you'd never get here," Willow turned to her lover, pulling her close, breathing in the smell of her.  Tara held her for a moment, then pulled away and led her to sit next to her on the end of the bed.  "Is it about the demon that's coming?"

Tara nodded, looking deep into her eyes, "He needs the Key."

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_Oh no, _I hear you cry_, not that old chestnut!_

Don't worry – all will be well.  Just take my hand and trust in me – I'll take us somewhere interesting soon.  At least, I hope it'll be interesting.


	3. The Clouds

Disclaimer: I've said it before and I'll say it again – the Buffyverse is not mine and never will be.  Oh, how I wish I had a talent like the great Joss Whedon.

Feedback: Keep it coming, guys.  If you don't tell me what you like, I can't write it.

Distribution: If you wanna, go ahead – just let me know first.

The Clouds

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Buffy jerked awake, aware that someone was shaking her.  Spike stirred next to her.

"Willow?" She sat up, "What the hell…"

"She's gone!"

Spike groaned and rubbed his eyes, "Who's gone?"

"Dawn!"

Spike swung his legs off the bed and pulled his jeans on.  He was on his feet and at the door in seconds, with Buffy right behind him.  She raced to her sister's room, slamming the door open and crossing to the bed.  Spike swung himself into the room with a hand on the door frame.  Everything seemed to be undisturbed.  Even the window was still closed and bolted.  Buffy sat down on the bed slowly, pulling the pillow towards her and hugging it close.

"They used magicks," Willow entered the room slowly, "Tara told me."

Spike kicked the bed furiously, wincing from the pain, "Why the hell didn't she tell you sooner?"

"I don't know.  But I know what we're up against now."

"Red, call the others.  Get them here fast."

Willow nodded, "Um, Buffy?" Her friend looked up at her, vaguely stroking the pillow. "You might wanna put some clothes on before the men get here."

Giles opened his notebook and took a mouthful of tea.  It was just getting light outside.  "I think it's best if we start from the beginning.  Why does this Damon need Dawn?  She's not the Key anymore."

"Yes she is, in a way." Willow was sitting on her mattress hugging her knees, "It's hard to explain.  You know the monks made her out of Buffy?  And you know how there's some sort of link between the Slayer and the Hellmouth?  Well, Dawn _was_ a sort of inter-dimensional key and that combined with the Slayer bloodline makes her perfect for opening the Hellmouth."

Xander took a large gulp of his coffee and shook his head, "I thought after Buffy jumped into that portal, Dawn couldn't open anything anymore?  She can't even open the pickles."

"Normally, yes, but this Damon has his followers and their belief makes his magicks very strong.  He sort of feeds on what he draws from them.  Tara said he needs Dawn to centre the power."

"So what now?" Spike was pacing around the room, clenching and unclenching his fists.  He looked ready to kill.

"Did Tara have anything else?  Like how to kill a Hantarctic demon?"

Willow nodded, "She said we're all ready.  She said I have to start using magic again; that I'm strong enough to use the power without letting it take over." Giles stood and went across to her, putting an awkward arm around her shoulders.  She smiled up at him, "And she said Spike's special too."

"What? The Evil Dead?" Xander almost choked on his coffee.

"Hey!"

"Sorry, man.  Old habits, hard to break."

Spike shrugged, "Go on, Red."

"Tara couldn't see it before, but there is a reason for having some of your demon still in you.  When you went to Africa, the things Angel calls 'The Powers That Be' thought they could create something the world had never had before.  For some reason, they created a male Slayer."

"Whoa, you're the Kwisatz Haderach." Xander looked around at his staring friends. "No, I'm not even gonna _try _and explain that."

Buffy finally spoke up, "Why would the Powers do that?"

"I don't know," Willow lowered her gaze, but Spike had seen the glance.  For a fraction of a second, she had looked at him and there had been something in her eyes – pain, maybe fear?  He couldn't make it out, but Red was hiding something.

"Well, I suggest… "

Anya clapped a hand over Giles' mouth, "It's happening tonight."

Giles pulled her hand away, "Anya, you can't just teleport in and interrupt me like that.  It's very impolite." He gave her a brief hug, "Welcome back, by the way."

She smiled at him, "Thanks, Giles.  I didn't get any kinda welcome from Buffy or Spike.  They were too busy shouting at me."

"You appeared in my bedroom when we were… " Buffy caught Giles' eye, "OK, back to the plan."

"I suggest a locator spell to find Dawn.  It might not work if this Damon is really as powerful as Tara seems to think, but it's worth a try."  He took Willow's hand and squeezed it. "I know you can do this.  I'll go and get the supplies."

Willow looked nervous, but she nodded and tried to rearrange her features into her resolve face.  Giles squeezed her hand one more time, stood and picked up his jacket from the back of the couch, checking the pockets for his keys and leaving for the Magic Box.  For a moment, everything was quiet.

"Breakfast, anyone?" Xander wandered into the kitchen.

Buffy checked her coffee mug, "Gonna need some more of this.  You want something to eat, Anya?"

Anya stopped inspecting the furniture and looked up.  She nodded and followed Xander.

"Spike?  Will?"

Spike shook his head.  Willow seemed preoccupied sitting on the couch, playing absent-mindedly with the hem of her shirt.  Buffy shrugged and left the room.

Spike sank down next to Willow.  "What is it?"

"What?" She avoided his eyes.

"I saw that look, Red.  You gotta tell me." Spike put a hand under her chin and raised her head to face him. "I have to know what Glinda told you; it might help me get Dawn out safe."

Willow shook her head, "It won't."

"Then tell me 'cause I'm your friend."

"That's emotional blackmail, Spike." She granted him a wistful smile, "But you've got a right to know.  Tara told me why the Powers made you what you are," She sighed. "Because we brought Buffy back, there's two Slayers and the Powers have an advantage.  They like that.  But they saw that Dawnie still has some power and they knew what Buffy would do to protect her.  They made you to be Dawn's protection, so Buffy can do what she has to."

"Yeah, makes sense.  So?"

"So, Tara saw what might happen tonight.  She's seen the possible futures." Willow looked down at her hands, "And in one, she saw you die."

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Blah, blah, blah, exposition, exposition.  Sorry, guys.

Not such a big build up to the final chapter, but I hope you're still reading.


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